


Magic Ink

by NinjaSpaz



Series: IwaOi Week 2020 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Tattoos, Asahi makes an appearance, Demonic Possession, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, IwaOi Week 2020 (Haikyuu!!), Iwaizumi stop being thirsty and do your job challenge, M/M, Magic Tattoos are now my jam, Magical Bonds, Mysterious Stranger - Freeform, Smoking, Tattoo Artist Iwaizumi Hajime, Urban Magic, i'm sorry iwa you know i love you right, oikawa is a menace to society, on multiple days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:07:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27821974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinjaSpaz/pseuds/NinjaSpaz
Summary: With renewed purpose, he smoothed his face to calmness and strode back out to the front. “Hi, welcome to Magic Ink!” Suga had thought himself clever when they were brainstorming ideas for their tattoo shop with the secret side business, and despite Iwaizumi’s reservations about the name, he had come around to it. “Iwaizumi Hajime, co-owner and tattoo artist. How can I help…you?”-Iwaizumi gets more than he bargained for when a handsome stranger strolls into his tattoo shop as he's preparing to close one stormy afternoon.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Series: IwaOi Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035951
Comments: 20
Kudos: 97
Collections: IwaOi Week 2020





	Magic Ink

**Author's Note:**

> IwaOi Week 2020 Day 1: ~~Mutual Pining~~ | Fantasy | Tattoos/Piercings | Touch
> 
> Magic tattoo au?  
> Magic tattoo au.

Iwaizumi glowered at the steel grey sky, tracking the curl of his cigarette smoke until it was indecipherable from the clouds overhead. A brisk wind swept through the alley as he took one final drag. He didn’t like the weighty feel of the air, full of portents and omens. Inside, the bell over the door chimed to signal the arrival of his next appointment. He exhaled slowly, savoring the last precious seconds of solitude, uneasy as those seconds were, until he had to put his professional mask back on. He stubbed the cigarette out on the heel of his boot, leaving the butt on the corner of the railing, where it bolted into the wall, for when he had a chance to come back and finish it.

He spared one last glance for the roiling sky, then kicked aside the chipped brick that served as a makeshift doorstop, closing the metal door behind him as he returned to his shop. He rolled his neck and shoulders, as if he could physically shrug off the unease that had settled over him since he’d woken up, and did his best to soften his face so as not to startle his customer with a scowl. He’d been told he could be intimidating even when he was just staring off into space, and he remembered this appointment scared easy.

He cleared his throat to let his customer know he had returned to the front. It was a mystery to Iwaizumi how the towering man hovering at the counter with the gauges and the septum piercing and the blue-streaked Fabio hair tied loosely in a bun could also be so afraid of his own shadow that he even jumped at a light throat clearing. “Hey Asahi,” he said, holding back a chuckle as the other man pressed his hand over his heart. “You’re right on time. Ready to jump right in?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Asahi breathed. “Sorry, the weather’s got me a little on edge I guess.”

From anyone else, Iwaizumi would almost believe it. Asahi was as skittish as a field mouse though, afraid of just about anything that moved or made noise. Not that Iwaizumi would ever call him out on it. “I know what you mean,” he said, gesturing the other man to his chair. Asahi settled in, shrugging off his cardigan to reveal toned arms nearly as big as Iwaizumi’s own. Half an inked sleeve peeked out from the loose cotton t-shirt he wore underneath. “I wish it would just open up and pour already. This teasing and threatening for days is getting old,” he added as he washed his hands at the sink in the corner.

Asahi huffed a light chuckle. “I just keep waiting for the thunder, you know?”

Iwaizumi grunted assent, shaking his hands of excess water before toweling them dry and pulling on a pair of sterile gloves and a mask. He dragged his stool and tools over and set to work adding details to the mural they’d designed together three months ago. He liked complicated pieces like Asahi’s. It was a mosaic of places he’d been in his travels, symbols of people important to him and events from his life that had led him to become the man he was today. Every element was deliberately chosen, delicately placed, and deeply sentimental, like the man being marked. Iwaizumi was gentle as he scored the skin with ink, meticulous in his work as he chatted with Asahi about his latest trip overseas.

Two hours later, the session was over and the sleeve extended to Asahi’s elbow. They both admired it with pleased smiles. “This might be my best work yet,” Iwaizumi allowed himself a moment of pride.

Asahi flushed. “I’m sure you’ve done better designs, Iwaizumi. You don’t have to force yourself.”

“I mean it,” Iwaizumi laughed. “And it will be even better once we finish it next time.” He opened his scheduler and penciled Asahi in for a month from now. “You know the drill,” he added, pointing at the freshly wrapped ink under the cardigan. Asahi nodded and waved as he exited, the bell tinkling behind him as the door opened and shut.

Iwaizumi glanced at the clock hanging behind the counter. Twenty minutes until he could close up and grab takeout on his way back to his shitty apartment. He set to cleaning up his inks and needles from his last appointment of the day and debated just closing early. Nobody was going to walk in at this hour, and even if they did, all they would get is an appointment for a consult at a later date.

With ten minutes to spare, he decided to return to the back stoop to finish his cigarette. As he opened the solid steel door to the alley, a gust ripped through him at the same time the bell to the store chimed for a new customer. Clenching his fists at his sides to quell the surge of annoyance that he would have to wait a few more minutes to satisfy his nicotine craving, he took several deep, calming breaths. It was just a few more minutes.

As he inhaled, he caught the scent of something else on the air, and it raised the hair on the back of his neck. That feeling of unease became stronger. He needed to get rid of the customer and get home so he could do a cleansing ritual.

With renewed purpose, he smoothed his face to calmness and strode back out to the front. “Hi, welcome to Magic Ink!” Suga had thought himself clever when they were brainstorming ideas for their tattoo shop with the secret side business, and despite Iwaizumi’s reservations about the name, he had come around to it. “Iwaizumi Hajime, co-owner and tattoo artist. How can I help…you?”

The words slowed off his tongue when his eyes fell upon the man in his shop. Iwaizumi swallowed hard as he realized the man was not a regular customer. Tall, brunet, eyes like fire agate and a presence that radiated confidence with the air of the supernatural, he was beautiful. Aside from a stunning jade stud in one ear, the man had no piercings or ink to speak of and did not look as if he really wanted to darken that porcelain canvas. He was also dangerous. Iwaizumi hoped he was wrong, but he had good instincts about these things. The scent he had picked up on the wind, this man carried it as well. Magic.

Still, he had to try. “I’m just about to close up for the day, but I’d be happy to take your information and set up a consult tomorrow?” Under different circumstances, he’d be happy to get the number and ask him out for a drink.

A bright smile broke on the man’s face and Iwaizumi fought down the urge to flush. It wasn’t natural, the smile or his reaction to it. “Ah! Well, I was kind of hoping you could fit me in tonight? It’s a bit urgent, you see.”

Iwaizumi snorted. “I can’t say I’ve ever heard of someone _needing_ a tattoo on short notice.” He gestured to the pale, unmarked skin he could see from the rolled up sleeves of the teal button down. “And you don’t look like someone who would ever want a tattoo, now are you…?” he trailed off, hoping the other man would catch his unspoken question.

“Oikawa. Oikawa Tooru,” he said, shaking Iwaizumi’s outstretched hand. “And I assure you, I would not be here if I had any other options. Word on the wind is you’re the best.” Those eyes flashed imperceptibly red for less than a heartbeat, the smile turning into a grimace just as briefly, and Iwaizumi felt a pressure against his mind.

If he were a lesser mage, Oikawa’s attempt at emotional manipulation would have worked. Oikawa was powerful enough himself it almost worked anyway. Iwaizumi’s initial impression of _dangerous_ was not ill-informed. “You’re not here for a regular old tattoo,” he said lamely.

Oikawa’s jaw tightened as he shook his head, and for the first time Iwaizumi noticed the fear in the crease of his eyes. The vague sense of impending doom that had plagued him all day reached a crescendo with a crack of thunder outside. He was not as superstitious as some mages, but he did not like that portent in the slightest.

“Sit.” He pointed to his chair and turned to lock the door without seeing if Oikawa complied. It wasn’t uncommon for people to come to him for spells, simple things like runes to improve inherent traits like strength or stamina, or the occasional limited-use casting of legal, non-offensive spells. He had done some minor bindings, links that would fade with the ink, and familiar bonds. The black pawprint on his ankle itched and he sent apologies to Jira. She would come if he called, but it would be safer for her at the apartment. He had a feeling it was going to be a late night.

He glanced up at the darkening sky through the window at the front of the shop as he turned off his OPEN sign. Another rumble of thunder washed over the city. He dropped the shutters and suppressed a shiver. There was nothing natural about any of this.

His fingers tapped at his hip irritably and his thoughts flickered to the half of a cigarette that still sat on the railing at the back door. Maybe it would calm his nerves before listening to whatever Oikawa was about to ask for. He wasn’t stupid or naïve enough to think the sudden appearance of a desperate mage and this eerie weather were unrelated.

“So,” he said, rounding on his customer to distract himself from his spiraling negative thoughts. “You know what I am. What I can do.” Oikawa nodded. “What sort of spell are you so desperate for that it can’t wait?”

Oikawa tugged at the collar of his sleek button-down. “I need a sealing spell.”

Another crack of thunder boomed overhead. He must not have heard him right. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs. “You need a what?”

“A sealing spell,” Oikawa repeated, his fingers tightening on the fabric at his neck. Iwaizumi watched the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.

Empirically, sealing spells were similar to binding spells. If a bind is considered a leash, a seal is more of a cage. They both serve to contain powerful beings, but seals were generally reserved for class A summons or higher. The average mage cannot bind a class A summon, nor should they attempt to. It’s incredibly dangerous, never mind illegal. An egregious misuse of magic.

“What did you do?” he hissed.

Oikawa scratched at his cheek with his free hand. “Well, it’s kind of a funny story.” Iwaizumi didn’t even bother to mask his displeasure, and the man wilted a little beneath his open glower. “I was actually trying to fix my scrying mirror.” Iwaizumi blinked back further shock at that. Scrying mirrors were old magic, mostly forbidden in the common age. Only a handful of mages were even known to possess them. “But when I turned to my apothecary cabinet to get some moonstone dust for the repair spell, my familiar decided that was a good time to knock over an inkwell on the table. I thought I’d cleaned it up properly, but well, when I did the spell, it opened a portal instead and something came through.”

He should have gone for that cigarette first.

Iwaizumi could feel a headache brewing behind his eyes. He didn’t want to ask. He didn’t want to _know_. He wanted to throw the handsome stranger out of his shop and go home and ward his apartment against whatever storm was coming. His traitor tongue spoke the words he didn’t want to hear. “What sort of something?”

The other man frowned at him, and the image distorted for a fraction of a second. His eyes flashed red again, but deeper, almost black, and his lips pulled back in a snarl to reveal sharp teeth. Horns spiraled out of his copper hair and the hand at his neck ended in fearsome claws instead of slender fingers. Iwaizumi jumped to his feet, blinking the vision away as Oikawa continued to frown at him. Human, not demon.

“I think you’re smart enough to know what sort of something, Iwa-chan.”

He was too shaken to even balk at the sudden nickname. Iwaizumi ran a trembling hand through his spiky hair. “I need a smoke.”

He stomped towards the back to get his pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket while he tried to make sense of the situation. Oikawa had summoned a demon and needed someone to seal it and had somehow come to the conclusion that a small tattoo shop in the center of the city was a good place to do that. He tapped his foot in a nervous rhythm as he tapped the pack against his palm. He shouldn’t even be entertaining the idea of agreeing to do it. Seals required so much paperwork and were generally performed by White Eagles, high level mages overseen by the Miyagi Protectorate. It wasn’t something just anybody could do.

He freed a cigarette from the package and held it between his lips, forcing himself not to clamp it down between his teeth. His hands still trembled as he attempted to light it with his monogrammed Zippo, the etched **_K_** burning into his hand. After several failed attempts, he gave up on the lighter and resorted to using magic instead, sending his arcane energy through the little flame tattoo on the end of his first finger. A wisp of blue fire flickered to life at the tip of his finger and he brought it to the end of his cigarette, inhaling the nicotine as it caught and burned.

Suga hated when he smoked in the shop, but given the circumstances Iwaizumi thought he might let it slide. If he couldn’t seal the demon inside of Oikawa, there might not be a shop left for them to run anyway.

He returned to the front, cigarette dangling from his lips now that the first few drags had settled his nerves some. The taller man’s face pinched uncomfortably, his nose wrinkled as if the smoke bothered him. Iwaizumi would have felt guilty if he wasn’t so uncomfortable himself. “Just so I’m clear as to what’s going on here, I’m gonna ask a couple questions.” Oikawa nodded stiffly, and Iwaizumi thought maybe it wasn’t the smoke that was getting to him. “You accidentally summoned a demon?” Another stiff nod. “And you came to a tattoo shop instead of going to the Protectorate?” The vein in his neck tightened as he nodded again. “Why?” Iwaizumi barely kept himself from shouting.

“Ushijima is not very fond of me,” he said through gritted teeth. He rolled his neck, his fight for control becoming more evident the longer they talked. “I thought I could banish it myself, if I had enough time to research, but it’s taking all my power to hold it inside me. Figured a seal would buy me some time.” His hands clenched and unclenched as he met Iwaizumi’s gaze. “Heard you’d done it before.”

That gave Iwaizumi pause. That wasn’t common knowledge. He wasn’t supposed to know how to do sealing spells, and the last one he’d done had cost him dearly. He didn’t regret it, and he would do it again in a heartbeat, but there is a difference between breaking all manner of magical law to save someone you loved and doing it for a complete stranger off the street. “Do you know how illegal all this is? I should be reporting you, not helping you.” It was cruel, sowing that doubt in the man’s mind. If he’d had plans to report him, he wouldn’t be smoking in the shop to ease the trembling of his hands so they would be still for the task ahead.

The stranger’s eyes flickered from brown to red, fear in the human and glee in the demon, before Oikawa exhaled sharply. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t my last resort,” he said, voice calm in the face of so much uncertainty. “I really am at my limit. If you don’t help me seal this demon, it will tear itself out of me and ravage the city.”

Iwaizumi swallowed. “How long have you been containing it?”

“Three days.”

Iwaizumi took the cigarette out of his mouth so it wouldn’t fall to the floor as he gaped at the other man. Three days. Just how powerful a mage was he? “How are you even functioning right now?”

Oikawa huffed a self-deprecating laugh. “I’m not, really. But I am nothing if not strong-willed.” He flashed a grin that in any other circumstances would probably have had Iwaizumi tattooing his number on him, emotional manipulation magic or not. “So are you going to help me?”

Another crack of thunder sounded above the shop. He really didn’t have a choice.

Iwaizumi set to work almost immediately. He kept the cigarette burning in a glass ashtray set on a spare stool to one side, the smell of it keeping him calm since he didn’t dare smoke it while he worked. He gestured to Oikawa to unbutton his shirt as he got up to wash his hands. The most common place for a demon mark was on the chest. Despite not being a betting man himself, given the way Oikawa had fidgeted with his shirt, Iwaizumi would have placed a decent sum of money on the demon’s sigil marring him somewhere in the vicinity of his heart.

He would have won that bet.

He expected his eyes to be drawn instantly to the blackening brand on Oikawa’s pectoral, but they were overwhelmed by the muscles the blue silk had somehow hidden. Like magic. “Fuck.”

Oikawa glanced down at the mark and cringed. “It’s bad isn’t it?”

Right. The binding.

He willed his feet to carry him back to the side of the chair so he could inspect the mark. His fingers hovered over the firm, alabaster skin, delicately brushing around the demonic symbol, which was, admittedly, really bad. He tilted his head to one side, considering it as he traced it, memorizing the shape of it and feeling the source. His unfortunate familiarity with the demonic pantheon came in handy as he learned the name of the demon residing within Oikawa.

Unfortunately, knowing the name did not bring him any comfort.

He lifted his head to meet Oikawa’s fiery gaze, absently dropping his hand to trail down over his stomach. Was every part of him that chiseled? Oikawa shivered under his touch, and Iwaizumi froze when he realized how close they were. _Dangerous._

His mind reeled, searching for something, anything, to distract from the proximity and force him back to some semblance of professionalism. The demon’s name. Arahabaki.

“What even are you?” he breathed in awe. “How have you kept a god of calamity at bay this long without losing your mind?”

Oikawa forced a laugh through his clenched jaw. “Well, like I said, I’m at my limit.” His tongue darted out to dampen his lips. Iwaizumi followed the motion, pulling back when the demon pulsed against the mage’s weakening barrier enough for that tongue to appear forked for a heartbeat.

Time really was not on their side. He slipped on his gloves and pulled his tools over. Under normal circumstances, he would go through his typical spiel, informing his customer of the risks and how important it is to communicate any discomfort. Even his magical appointments got that courtesy, with the related caveats added on. As he powered on the gun and dipped it into the blessed ink he used for his spells, he didn’t waste his breath. There was nothing normal about these circumstances and they didn’t have the luxury to follow proper procedure.

Oikawa gripped the arms of the chair as the needle grazed his skin. “Do I, ah,” he hissed, “do I need to do anything?”

“You need to relax and shut your mouth,” Iwaizumi grumbled, dipping the gun into the ink jar again. “I need to concentrate.”

He thought Oikawa might protest, but as he brought the needle back to his chest, the other man just watched with ferocious intensity. He wasn’t sure how much of that was Oikawa and how much was the demon within, but as long as he kept quiet, Iwaizumi wouldn’t let that gaze affect him.

The needle penetrated the epidermis and Oikawa’s far hand flung to his mouth, clamping down to stifle a whine. Some people had pain tolerance so abysmal they could not sit through even the simplest of tattoo designs. Iwaizumi was not fool enough to count Oikawa among them and this was not a simple tattoo. Having that demon inside him was likely setting off every nerve at once, and the trace amounts of silver in the ink were sure to piss the demon off more once he’d injected enough to cast his spell.

He worked in muted silence, broken only by Oikawa’s soft whimpers and the demon’s occasional guttural snarls. Outside, the wind whipped against the building, thunder rolling in the distance. The further he got through the counter sigil, the louder the rushing became outside. By the time he got halfway through, it started to swirl in the shop.

“Oikawa, you need to hold it just a little longer,” he shouted over the roaring in the small space. He preferred to be closer to seventy percent inked before he began working his magic, but Arahabaki was too strong to put it off any longer. He only hoped he was strong enough to complete the seal. He began channeling his energy into the ink flowing out of his gun, into the ink already spreading underneath the skin, and Oikawa cried out an inhuman wail.

His eyes turned black. The hand that had been gripping his face now clenched on the arm of the chair. The demon’s energy thrashed against the cage again. It was breaking, and Iwaizumi’s was only partly constructed. He needed to reinforce Oikawa’s binding before he could finish his seal.

He did not like that course of action for several reasons. One, it would divert some of his vastly drained energy away from the seal. Two, he didn’t actually know anything about Oikawa’s magic, what it was or how he channeled. Trying to reinforce it could have disastrous side effects. Like reason number three. He didn’t want to think about reason three.

Unfortunately, Arahabaki didn’t give him a choice.

Oikawa’s body arched in the chair, the demon seizing his limbs and wracking his body with violent tremors. It was going to force its way out one way or another.

“Shit.”

Iwaizumi had to work fast. He grabbed his spare gun and another inkwell, one he had only used once before and which he’d hoped he wouldn’t have to use again. Hell, if this insane plan worked and they survived, there was still the chance that the wind would carry word to the Protectorate and he’d lose his license for good this time and the unique ink would be confiscated anyway. They did not approve of blood magic, even in apocalypse scenarios.

He powered up the second gun and drew the new ink into it. Tracing over the original binding sigil with his ink wasn’t difficult. Forcing it to accept his magic as reinforcement, however, was the real trial. He channeled into the blood mixed in the ink, strengthening his own power to bend the bond to his will. When it still resisted, either because of a natural incompatibility with Oikawa’s own magic or because the demon was simply too powerful, Iwaizumi resorted to drastic measures.

The tattoo on his ankle flared up in warning. Of course Jira would know what he was thinking even when she wasn’t there to stop him. He didn’t have a second to spare a thought to assuage her concern, though. It was the only way he could finish the seal and prevent a calamity from befalling the city he had made his home.

He switched gears and hastily inked a small binding sigil onto his wrist. The design itself wasn’t important, so long as it was easily reproduceable. They had to match, after all, and he drew the easiest thing that came to mind. A simple character. A straight bar.

As he inked an identical bar over Oikawa’s heart, he was grateful his parents had given him such a simple name. A character that could be interpreted a dozen different ways. Otherwise, forever linking himself to a stranger using his own given name would be embarrassing beyond mortification and he would have to move out of the city and start a new life all over again. Once was more than enough.

He felt the instant the bond connected in a blinding rush. Oikawa’s magic surged back through the link, nearly overwhelming him with the intensity of his emotions. Iwaizumi was amazed the man had any arcane reserves left after containing the demon for so long. From the frantic waves rolling through him, he confirmed the anxiety that threatened to drown them both. Oikawa was going to break if Iwaizumi didn’t give him something to cling to. A pillar to lean on.

He pressed his hand against his name on Oikawa’s chest, feeling the erratic pulse fluttering underneath, and focused a thread of his energy on the matching mark on his own arm. It was really more than he could spare—he needed every last drop of his magic to complete the seal—but if he could just guide that torrent back towards the cage it had built, could weave his own power into it to strengthen the shackles and buy himself time…

Arahabaki lashed out through the cracks in the incomplete seal. It couldn’t touch Iwaizumi directly, the protection spells on the back of his neck and right hand working overtime. Instead, the demon’s energy whipped through the shop, a maelstrom ripping awards and photos off the walls, upending Suga’s tools and cracking the glass of the clock behind the counter. Iwaizumi didn’t have time to worry about the broken things or gloat in the face of its fear. He forced the combined arcana, his and Oikawa’s, around the flailing entity and finished the first sigil.

The air in the shop slowed to a fluttering breath as Oikawa’s body collapsed on the chair. His eyes drifted closed while Iwaizumi focused the rest of his energy back into completing the seal. He could still feel Arahabaki raging against the barrier, but with the new link combining their magic power and strengthening the first cage, he was able to concentrate on completing the outer fortress. It was tempting to draw on Oikawa’s power for it, but doing so could kill him, and that would release the demon anyway.

With the worst of the storm past, he returned his focus to his work. It was a far cry from his best, but he was still as meticulous as ever now that the distractions had abated. The demon’s howls faded with the wind as his blessed ink completed the seal. He brushed his fingers over the counter sigil and whispered the words of sealing with the last ounce of his arcane energy.

He was sitting against the opposite wall among the debris of Arahabaki’s tantrum, cigarette hanging from his lips and a hand stroking a black ball of fluff in his lap when Oikawa finally awoke twenty minutes later. He blinked in the dim light, head twisting side to side as he sought his bearings. When his eyes landed on Iwaizumi, he gripped the arms of the chair and nervously licked his lips. “Did it work?”

Iwaizumi struggled to keep a lid on his amusement as the unspoken _are we dead_ slipped through the link. He raised an eyebrow as he surveyed the damage to his shop. “This look like heaven to you?”

Oikawa let out a sigh of relief and relaxed back into the chair. He grinned at Iwaizumi, that same smile from before that was too bright and too inviting but without any of the wrongness from the demonic influence or the pressure from his supernatural charm. Iwaizumi would sell his shop if the man had an ounce of arcana left to cast even a simple spell. “What if it does?”

A flicker of heat burned at his wrist and spread across his cheeks. Oikawa didn’t need a spell to charm him after all. Did this idiot really not know how to shield his emotions from a bond? He mentioned having a familiar, so he must have some experience. Jira stirred in his lap, flicking her tail in his face to remind him of her displeasure. He stroked her between the ears in apology. He glanced back up at Oikawa with a put-upon scowl. “You’ve got a pretty shitty idea of heaven, then.”

“Sure beats the alternative,” he said. Iwaizumi couldn’t argue with that. He watched as Oikawa gingerly brushed the ink on his chest. “How long will it last?”

Iwaizumi shrugged. “The ink is permanent. There are ways to have tattoos removed, if you want to erase the evidence of your shame after you banish that thing for good.”

“And the spell?”

Iwaizumi sucked hard on his cigarette, tapping it out in the now-chipped tray as he exhaled the smoke towards the ceiling. He watched the wisps twist in the flickering fluorescent lighting, wondering if he could divine the answer from the patterns they made. He had never been very good at divination, though.

“I’ve never done one that complicated before,” he admitted. “And it almost didn’t work. The demon possessed you and almost escaped your binding.” He raised his left arm up, hand clenched in a fist to show the simple line on his wrist. “I had to rush my own binding spell to borrow your magic to fix it so I could focus on the seal.” Shock charged through the link briefly before it was cut off. So, he did know how to filter a link. “I’m sorry. That was hugely invasive and I wouldn’t have done it if I’d had any other options.”

Oikawa waved him off, a long, slender finger tracing the thick line almost reverently. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have waited until it was almost too late to fix.” His eyes meet Iwaizumi’s again across the small space. “Tetsu said I could trust you. I should have listened to him sooner.”

His hand stalled in Jira’s fur, all worries about the illegal acts that had transpired over the last few hours evaporating at the utterance of that name. She wiggled out of his uncomfortable grasp and hopped up on the counter to glower at him imperiously. His mind was on another black cat. “How do you know Kuroo?”

Oikawa shrugged. “I met him a few years back. It’s not important. He’s the only person I knew who had experience with…alternative sealing methods.” That was putting it lightly. “So, I asked him for advice, and he mentioned you.”

Iwaizumi swallowed. “Did he say…is Keiji…?” He clamped his jaw shut. He had no right to ask. Even if Oikawa knew the answer, that was a different life. One he was forbidden from returning to. He just wished Kuroo wouldn’t meddle. He shook his head when Oikawa opened his mouth to reply. “It’s not important,” he repeated, rubbing the faded star below the fresh ink on his wrist. They still had business to conclude, after all. “The seal will probably hold for a month.”

“What happens if I don’t figure it out in a month?”

He really hoped it didn’t come to that. “Then the demon will escape and kill us both before destroying the city. Or The White Eagles will figure out what happened and arrest us both, in which case I think I’d prefer Arahabaki.” From the firm set of Oikawa’s jaw, Iwaizumi thought he probably felt the same. “Can you do it?”

Oikawa got to his feet and started to button up his shirt. He watched Iwaizumi warily, appraising him and calculating. That feeling returned, the instinct warning Iwaizumi of danger. As he notched the last button on his throat, Oikawa nodded, coming to some conclusion in his head. His lips pulled back in a satisfied smirk. “Of course I can. I’m the Grand Mage.” He flashed a peace sign with his grin.

Iwaizumi openly stared at him, feeling the truth of his confession through their unfortunate bond. The Grand Mage was wanted by the magical governing bodies of at least three different countries. He was a fugitive. A menace.

Iwaizumi knew his jaw was on the floor. He knew he should have turned him away from the start. He knew he was dangerous. He knew he would regret this. He didn’t know that regret would settle in immediately.

Oikawa clapped cheerily. “You’re stuck with me now, Iwa-chan! C’mon! We’ve got a lot of work to do!”

Iwaizumi groaned into his hands. What had he gotten himself into?

**Author's Note:**

> This got away from me at the end. My muse kept feeding me ideas for this au and one day I might come back and expand upon it but I've got 5 more works planned for this week so this will have to do! I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Drop that comment, click that kudos, come watch me cry about my writing process on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/anininjaspaz)! And come back for some cute canonverse childhood IwaOi tomorrow!
> 
> EDIT: Because I am apparently blessed with the loveliest of friends, there is now wonderful [Nicole art](https://twitter.com/bb_owlet/status/1336971002551668736) of Magic Iwa to go along with this. LOOK AT HIM. LOOK AT HIM I SAY. And look forward to the future where I figure out his past and reveal more of his tattoos. 👀


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